


The Beginning Of The End: Fin

by thegreatficmaster



Series: The Beginning Of The End [13]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Depressed Derek Hale, End of the World, Hellhound Jordan Parrish, M/M, Murder, Reader-Insert, Regret, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 09:21:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20504609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatficmaster/pseuds/thegreatficmaster
Summary: The true end arrives.





	The Beginning Of The End: Fin

Her drunken giggles echoed in the empty woods, chasing after him and following him further into the woods.

Branches broke under their weight, the moonlight illuminating their faces with-a blush spreading over his cheeks from the beers coursing through his veins, her eyes filled with excitement.

Pulling her closer, he pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, before throwing his jersey across her shoulders.

Eventually, they came upon a small clearing-a cave stood opposite them-inviting and seeming to glow with warmth.

She stopped, hesitant as the cloud of excitement cleared for a moment-long enough to pick up on the emptiness that was surrounding them.

But a single look at him and her nerves were buried beneath an overload of hormone-fuelled giddiness.

They foolishly entered, the only thing illuminating them within the damp cave being the sliver of moonlight that managed to reach inside, and the blue and yellow glow of their eyes.

He reached for her, pulling her onto his lap as her hands found themselves buried in his hair, lips almost touching.

But before they had the chance, a blistering heat sent them both to the ground, writhing and screaming-a deafening roar surrounding them.

“He won’t open the door”, Scott sighed, listening when his name was called out-followed by his project partner.

He glanced over at her, flashing her a smile-then turned back to Stiles and Lydia.

“Derek’s never exactly been…welcoming”, Stiles shrugged, his suggestion that this was just Derek’s behaviour not even believed by himself.

“Maybe we could-”

“Lydia Martin, Lyra Majofsky”.

Lydia perked up, glancing around the room and raising her hand moments later.

“Sir, Lyra’s not in today”, she said with a smile, hoping for a change of partner.

“Well, you’ll have to catch her up, won’t you?” he replied with a roll of his eyes-not letting her get another word in and calling out the next pair.

“Adler wasn’t at practice today”, Stiles mentioned. “Probably together-eating each other’s faces”.

Lydia stared blankly at Stiles-the information not particularly useful-then turned back to Scott.

“We should go over there. Try to help him”.

“Go over to Derek’s?” Stiles asked in horror. “Mean, angry Derek. Who’s probably even worse after what happened?”

But the looks on both Lydia and Scott’s faces told Stiles that no matter how much he hated the idea, the second the final bell rang, they’d be on their way to the loft.

“You won’t get anywhere”, Peter droned, sitting comfortably on the couch and turning the page of his book. “Believe me, I’ve tried”.

Lydia glanced back at Stiles as Scott climbed the staircase, eyebrows raised as she waited for him to move from his spot.

“I think I’m just gonna…stay here”, he laughed awkwardly, planting himself opposite Peter and averting his eyes from Lydia’s glare-waiting until she disappeared up the stairs to let out a relieved sigh.

A few minutes passed, the mumbled pleading of Lydia and Scott sounding from upstairs, before Peter peered over the top of his book.

“What exactly are you doing here?”

Stiles’ eyes darted around the room, pointing up as though the answer should’ve been obvious.

Peter laughed, shutting his book and leaning forward.

“No-I know why Lydia and Scott are here. What is it that _you_ can do?”

Stiles froze, unable to find an answer as he laughed nervously to himself-getting off the couch and rushing to join Lydia and Scott-figuring Derek in whatever mood he was in would be far better than Peter’s snipes and judgement.

“Hey-anything?” Stiles asked, joining Lydia and Scott-who were both leaning on either side of the locked door.

Scott shook his head, sighing and knocking again.

“Derek? Open the door”.

They waited for another half hour, before assuring Derek they’d be there if he needed them and making their way back down the stairs.

“Told you”, Peter mumbled.

“Oh-shut up, Peter!” Lydia snapped, storming out of the apartment, Stiles chasing after her with Scott following close behind.

“I thought we’re going to Derek’s”, Malia piped up, glancing out of the windows and frowning when Stiles failed to take the turn he should’ve.

“Dad said he needs to see us”, Stiles said. “Besides, I’m sick of seeing that ugly grey wall”.

Stiles most certainly wasn’t expecting the smack he earned from Lydia, yelping in pain and rubbing his arm.

“I’m driving! You know how dangerous that is?”

He grumbled the entire drive, finally reaching the station and parking.

The Sheriff greeted them all when they walked in, ushering them into his office and shutting the doors and blinds.

“Is there anything I should know? Anything…to do with werewolves? Or…fire creatures?”

“Fire creatures?” Scott asked, glancing at the others-each just as confused as the other.

The Sheriff sighed, opening the file sat on his desk and sliding the pictures towards them.

“What is this?” Lydia asked, twirling the pictures to see what the sheriff wanted her to see.

“Those kids from your school? A dozen more people-missing in the last few weeks. Just disappeared. And…we think those are their remains”.

The room fell into solemn silence, the clock ticking loudly as everyone stared at the pictures-unable to believe people could be reduced to nothing but ash.

“How?”

“I was hoping you’d be able to tell me that. Unless someone’s been stockpiling some sort of explosive, there’s no way anything can burn like this. Or…it’s something else”.

Lydia frowned, the image of an empty desk flashing in her mind-rushing to the door and peering out.

“Where’s Jordan?”

“Parrish? No idea-he hasn’t been in for a few weeks”.

Lydia turned back around, swallowing thickly and sharing a knowing look with the others-praying what was running through her mind wouldn’t be the truth.

“Is it really a good idea to follow the trail of a Hellhound-in the middle of the night-after he’s killed a dozen people?”

“Stiles!” Lydia hissed in disbelief. “We don’t know if Jordan’s done anything other than go missing”.

Her own words didn’t sound so convincing, but she held her ground-refusing to let Stiles or anyone else come to a judgement before knowing the full truth.

Stiles held his hands up in surrender, resuming their trek into the woods-going deeper and deeper until the trees were so thick, the moonlight could no longer be seen.

“Here”, Stiles said, handing out flashlights to the others, even if Malia and Scott didn’t need them.

They walked for almost another hour, the woods never-ending, trees they passed beginning to look exactly the same-a singular owl hooting every few minutes, as though it was following them.

Or perhaps they’d gone in circles, coming upon the same spot over and over.

“Maybe we should try again tomorrow morning?” Malia reasoned, certain that she’d seen the cracked trunk of the tree to her left a dozen times by now.

“We can’t. We need to find Jordan”, Lydia breathed, determined and ready to keep moving all night if she had to.

But even Scott could admit when they needed to retreat, his hand on Lydia’s shoulder as he turned her gently.

“Lydia-I don’t think we’ll find him today. Not if he doesn’t want us to”.

She stood rooted on her spot, glancing around-hoping to catch a glimpse of Jordan, before letting out a defeated sigh.

“Fine, ok”.

They all turned back, hoping the woods would permit them back to the car.

But a single step back the way they came, and they all froze.

Fire burned behind them, a figure standing within the flames-the stench of putrid flesh piercing the air and invading their senses-smelling, tasting and feeling the flames.

“Parrish?”

They quickly backed away when his eyes glowed-not the usual orange, but a fiery blue-flames growing larger and larger, licks of fire reaching out to the trees-piles of ash now collected where trees had stood only a second ago.

“Run! NOW!” Stiles yelled, pulling Lydia out of her daze and running with all his might, Scott and Malia quickly following-knowing whatever was standing behind them was no longer Jordan Parrish.

They quickly reached the Jeep, scurrying inside and slamming the doors shut-Stiles desperately turning the keys and letting out a joyous yell when it started on the first try.

Quickly reversing, they sped out of the woods and joined the road-not caring that they’d probably driven twice the limit for almost five minutes-grateful they’d made it out.

“What was that?” Lydia gasped, catching her breath and staring back into woods-the faint blue glow barely visible from their distance.

“No idea. But I think we’ve confirmed Parrish went crazy and killed those people”, Stiles rambled into the rear-view mirror, turning back to the road-when the car halted to a stop-everyone lurching forward and slamming into the back of the front seats and dashboard.

Blood poured from Stiles’ nose, a cut on Malia’s forehead, and Lydia’s wrist was burning in pain.

They groggily opened the doors, nearly falling out of the car and dragging themselves forward, Scott helping Lydia up and carrying her with him.

Blisters erupted on their skin-a scorching heat surrounding them-blue flames encircling and trapping them.

Before they could make out Jordan’s figure, the circle of flames grew to life-tendrils of fire slithering forward, rearing back and striking.

“DEREK! DEREK! OPEN THE DOOR!”

Peter turned in bed, eyes heavy with sleep as Scott’s voice pierced through the metal door of the loft.

“OPEN THE DOOR!”

He grumbled, sliding out of bed-feet pattering against the cold floor and reaching the door-pulling it open, ready to lose his temper.

But the sight in front of him filled him dread-Scott carrying an unconscious Malia, covered in black soot-her skin burnt.

Peter’s entire body froze-memories washing over him-his own daughter enduring what he had so long ago.

Lydia grasped the doorframe, practically falling into Peter’s arms-choked words barely audible.

“What?” Peter asked, leaning closer and straining his ears.

“Stiles…”

Peter glanced around, only now acknowledging the absence of the continuous annoyance in his life-and the raw pain filling Scott’s eyes.

He didn’t have to be told-he knew Stiles wouldn’t be coming.

“What happened?” he asked, carrying Lydia into the loft and laying her down on the couch, directing Scott to put Malia on his bed.

“Parrish…he’s…”

Scott couldn’t speak, tears running down his face as the sound of Stiles’ anguished screams rang in his ears-the last thing he saw being his friend holding his hand out, his body lifeless and crumbling into nothing.

The adrenaline and desperation quickly ebbed away, and Scott looked up one last time-a hopeless look in his eyes-before he fell to the bed.

“It’s…impossible. Hellhounds are neither good nor bad-but protectors”, Deaton rambled.

“Well it happened”, Scott bit back. “Parrish is the one who’s killed a dozen people in the past few weeks. Parrish is the one who attacked us-who killed…”

Lydia visibly winced-clutching the arms of the chair so tight, her knuckles were white.

“We need to stop him”.

“The Hellhound is an immortal creature-reborn throughout time. We can’t stop him”.

“We can try”.

Lydia turned around, eyes wide when Peter entered the exam room-a scruffy, dishevelled Derek following behind him.

“Derek?”

His eyes were empty-the bags under his eyes ageing him-looking far older and thinner than they were used to.

There was no smile on his face, no expression other than the blank emptiness that had filled him for the past few months.

“How’s Malia?”

“Healing”, Peter answered-slamming down a heavy duffel bag and pushing it towards the others.

Scott hesitantly unzipped it, jumping back at the sight of a dozen guns, grenades, and what he assumed was some form of rocket-launcher.

“What the hell?”

“Parrish is the human host to a Hellhound. We get rid of his body, we get rid of him”.

Lydia gasped in shock-disgust and horror plastered on her face.

“We can’t kill him!”

Peter slammed his hand down, Lydia jumping in terror as Peter’s face got closer to hers.

“He killed your boyfriend. Burnt my daughter”, he spoke softly, which only further terrified her. “He’s dying, whether you like it or not”.

“You can’t kill him!” Scott yelled after Peter, following behind as he and Derek left the room.

“I can…and you can either help me do it, or watch. But you’re not stopping me”.

The further they went, the darker it got-barely midday, and the forest was illuminated by nothing-as though an eternal darkness had settled here, created by Jordan’s flames.

Peter glanced back at Derek-his eyes still empty, his movements sluggish and slow. He regretted bringing a mourning werewolf who’d been nothing but a hindrance until now.

But he also knew if danger arrived, Derek was the best weapon he could have-along with everything in his bag.

“Where did you see him?” Peter asked, Scott frowning-wondering how he’d be able to remember when everything he’d seen no longer existed.

Scott stopped, kneeling and peering out into the distance-his eyes allowing him to see further and further, as though he was running through the forest himself.

His gaze halted to a stop-a singular stump still standing in a graveyard of ash.

“The Nemeton”.

Somehow-they reached it within seconds, as though it had been expecting them-waiting for their arrival.

“Where is he?”

They got their answer moments later, fire burning red and orange in the middle of the stump-Jordan’s body growing from the flames.

Peter reached into the bag, heart pounding as he pulled out the rocket-launcher, swinging it onto his shoulder and taking aim.

“Peter, no!”

Peter swiped his arm, throwing Scott back and pushing Derek behind him.

There was no time for a snarky comment, or an explanation from Jordan.

Peter took aim and fired-the rocket flying right at Jordan.

But before it could even reach him, it seemed to hit nothing-the air around Jordan rippling before the rocket exploded.

The shockwave hit Peter square in the chest, his body flying with Derek’s-slamming into the ground and leaving them both winded.

Jordan stepped down, turning and kneeling as a second wall of fire burned-now blue and searing the skin of Peter, Derek and Scott.

The fire burned around them-the forest ablaze, smoke billowing in the air.

Derek’s empty eyes widened-tears streaming from them as the figure emerged.

“Y/n?”

A tilt of his head and a scoff-he laughed to himself.

“Dry your tears, Derek Hale. We both know they aren’t real”.

Y/n stepped down from the Nemeton, hand caressing Jordan’s cheeks and burning the Hellhound’s flames blue.

“This town…this world is overrun”, y/n began, waving a hand as a pillar of fire flew into the sky and disappeared. “Creatures running rampant. Left unchecked, all because you decided to play with a teenage boy”, he spat at Peter.

Derek didn’t seem to grasp the situation-his mind drowning in relief and desperation to reach the one he’d lost.

He dragged himself through the ash, but didn’t get far-y/n holding his hand up as Derek’s body froze in place.

“We’ve been waiting for you, Scott McCall. The True Alpha”, he spoke with a sneer. “And yet, you’ve allowed this town to fall into disrepair. Invited in evil that had no place here. You are the reason the boy had to die-tainted by the Nogitsune”.

He shook his head in disgust, a second pillar of fire zooming past them and disappearing out of sight.

“You’ve awoken forces not meant for this world. A boy who believes himself to be a worthy Alpha. A Banshee too inquisitive for her own good. A human so empty, he allowed himself to be infected”.

He took a step forward, standing in front of Derek and kneeling-Peter’s fingers slowly reaching for back into the bag-Scott’s eyes assessing the situation and getting ready.

“And you…the one who started this all. Sacrificing the girl you fell in love with all those years ago. You created the first crack in the door. And now you all need to be cleansed”.

“What gives you the right to decide that?” Scott asked, grabbing y/n’s attention and standing to face him.

“I do…” he replied, an air of superiority and power surrounding him.

His focus was solely on Scott-he didn’t notice Peter moving around him, gun in hand-finger on the trigger.

The bullets flew out, but before they could strike flesh-wings adorned with scales erupted, the bullets clattering to the ground.

Y/n turned around, a look of boredom on his face-a ball of fire growing in his hand.

“Peter Hale. You’ve cheated death so many times-but no more”.

The fire lunged forward, writhing around Peter’s body and engulfing him completely.

Derek shut his eyes, desperately trying to block out Peter’s begging-his death seeming to go on for longer than it should’ve-before his body lay limp, charred and unfamiliar.

“What are you?”

“The one who’ll clean up your mess”.

Scott growled, eyes glowing red as he jumped up and moved to strike-but his hands burned away before he could-eyes wide as he watched himself turn to nothing.

Y/n waved his hand once more, countless pillars of fire moving towards the town-the air erupting with screams of pain and death-reaching them even this deep into the woods.

The town was ablaze, every creature burning in their own beds, screams joining to create a harmony of pain and death.

Lydia awoke, the Banshee’s screech deafening-every death paining her entire being-the body on the bed feet from hers ablaze-before they both fell silent.

Y/n turned back to Derek, kneeling once more and gripping his chin.

“You never should’ve let me die”, y/n spoke softly, lips meeting Derek’s in one final kiss, before stepping back, taking Jordan’s hand-the flames growing more intense, dancing out of control and bouncing through each and every road-no longer discerning between human and creature.

The last image Derek saw was the embrace of the Hellhound and his Master, each amplifying the other’s power and burning away what they’d deemed tainted.

And as the flames burned at Derek’s skin-a soft smile grew on his face.

Death was terrifying, but as he watched the creatures of flame fly-he couldn’t help but welcome it-knowing the end had arrived.


End file.
